


Love Lens

by j_gabrielle



Series: Days That Never Were [3]
Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe-Model/Photographer, Awkwardness, M/M, UST
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-12
Updated: 2013-06-12
Packaged: 2017-12-14 17:41:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/839597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_gabrielle/pseuds/j_gabrielle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>David Lyons is hot and I cannot stop thinking about him in skin tight leather pants and smudge kohl rimming his eyes.</p><p>Also, I am bad at naming things okay?</p>
    </blockquote>





	Love Lens

**Author's Note:**

> David Lyons is hot and I cannot stop thinking about him in skin tight leather pants and smudge kohl rimming his eyes.
> 
> Also, I am bad at naming things okay?

Miles groans, wincing in the bright lights of the studio. Hangovers can be a bitch.

He adjusts his sunglasses, taking a steaming Starbucks cup from his assistant Nora as he moves to check his cameras. She tails him, every line of her body screaming of an urgent news that he needs to hear. “What?”

“Jason got arrested again last night outside a club.” She whispers, taking a sip out of her own cup of joe. “Apparently he was caught trying to bring home some jailbait.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah, I know.” Nora huffs over the rim of her cup. Jason has been a source of headache for them since his name showed up on the roster.

She shoves a portfolio into his hands, “The agency is sending a replacement over.” Apparently he is new from Philly.” She jerks her head at the weight in his hands. “Been in town for only a couple of months, but has been booking jobs left and right. Looks pretty cute too…”

Miles makes an impatient noise, handing it back to her. “If you think he’s good, then he is. Don’t need more than that. Just make sure the press doesn’t get wind of this okay? Last thing we need is a swarm outside the studio.” She nods, turning and disappearing into the crowd of crew and models.

He spends a little more time going through the brief, checking with tech about the lighting, doing a couple of test shots and soon enough it is Go-Time. “Alright, let’s get this show on the road!”

They’re shooting an ad campaign for one of those froufrou design houses from Paris that his niece Charlie covets. She wants to be a fashion model, but Miles is infinitely grateful that his brother Ben firmly against the idea. Charlie’s a good kid, but good kids don’t stay good in this business.

It is a stream of stick thin models with too little clothes on that parade in front of his lenses, posing and flaunting the articles on their bodies that will cost the average person two month’s worth of salary. Miles sighs inwardly, wishing he wasn’t as good as he was at this, but being a fashion photographer pays the bills just as much (if not more) than nature photography does.

Whatever puts food on the table and keeps the booze cabinet well stock, eh?

He keeps his cool when some of the models begin to start a cat fight over something about an ex-boyfriend with a pool noodle. Miles does not want to know, does not need to know. He lets Nora sort it all out and scans the list in his pocket and is relieved to find that they are down to the last model of the shoot; the one that is filling in for Jason.

“Let’s get moving people.” He calls out, adjusting his exposure.

“How do you want me?” The hint of a southern drawl makes him jerk up from his fiddling. A young man with slicked back blonde curls moves to prop himself against one of the chairs on set, draping himself elegantly and letting the light brown coat he is wearing fan out behind him. “Would this do?” He asks softly.

“Er. Yeah. Um, yeah. That’s great.” Miles stutters, grabbing his camera to begin. “Hold still.”

The man moves like liquid silk, effortlessly translating his directions into motions and poses. His blue eyes bore into the lens of the camera, heightened by the kohl black rim around his eyes. It doesn’t seem like he is even trying and Miles is aware of the hushed silence on set as the man slides his legs open, slumping halfway down the chair.

“I think we have the shot.” Miles says a little while afterwards. Swallowing, he continues. “But if you don’t mind though, I would like to shoot you for my private collection? If that’s ok?”

If he is surprised, the man doesn’t show it. Instead, he nods, grinning boyishly as he shed the great coat and goes to sit back down on the chair. This time around, he looks a little less ‘sex personified’ and a little more ‘happy siren’. Miles can feel Nora’s stare burning into the back of his head but he has had ages to perfect the art of ignoring her when he wants to.

When he is done, they shake hands and Miles tries not to let himself linger too long in the man’s cool grasp. The man smiles, his soft voice thanking him as he moves off set. Their eyes meet and Miles has to tamp down the irrational urge to see what they look like without all that liner.

“He’s name is Monroe. Sebastian Monroe.” Nora smirks, coming up next to him. Slipping a piece of paper into the pocket of his jeans, she winks, going to follow the man called Monroe. “Don’t screw it up okay, Boss?”

Miles wants to laugh, but all it comes out as is a low nervous, “Thanks.”

 

 


End file.
